Scrollers Preview - Parashat Bo 2013

Our Parasha this week completes the story of the ten plagues that strike Egypt, with the final plagues of locusts, darkness and the killing of the first born of all the Egyptians. We get the instructions to the Israelites regarding the Pesach sacrifice that they are to make on the night of vigil before their liberation. Intertwined in the narrative about the sacrifice are also instructions for the following generations to observe the festival of Pesach.

In this Torah portion, at the beginning of Chapter 12, we have the first instance of God giving ritual commandments to the Israelite people through Moses. The commandment is to mark the month of Aviv, in which the Exodus takes place, as the first month on the calendar. “this month shall mark for you the beginning of the months. . .” (Ex. 12:2) The text continues to prescribe the ritual of the Passover sacrifice and the Feast of Unleavened bread, which are celebrated in remembrance of this seminal event of liberation.

Many Medieval commentators ask why the Torah starts with the “In the beginning” – the Creation story  - and not with “This month shall mark for you the beginning of the months.” Because in their context, these rabbis are more concerned with the Jewish path of mitzvoth and halacha (law,) they wonder why it takes so long to get to the first real law in the Torah.

Here, with these regulations concerning the calendar and the first laws concerning a holiday, the Jewish way of life truly begins to take shape. We also see a weaving of past and present and future in this parasha. The text jumps back and forth from the narrative of the Israelites in Egypt putting the blood of the lamb on the door to God’s instructions to future generations to celebrate Passover “in remembrance” of these events.

God even thinks to tell us what to tell our children when they ask us about the holiday, “What do you mean by this rite?”(Ex. 12:26) And we then are to look back into our personal/mythic past and say, “It is the Passover sacrifice to the Lord, because He passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt when He smote the Egyptians, but saved our houses.” (12:26)

At this critical juncture in our tradition, many questions come to the surface. We have received other commandments such as circumcision and “be fruitful and multiply.” These have been communicated to individuals from God as commandments to be observed down the generations. But here, we have the first ritual I can detect that is truly communal. What does it mean to us that the Pesach holiday is the first communal observance to be commanded in the Torah? What does this say about the story of the Exodus and its status in our memory and ongoing life as a people? What does this say about who we are as a people? What does it mean that this ritual is commanded while we are still in Egypt?

So many questions, and I’m confident you’ll bring your own. Looking forward to studying with you tomorrow.

Rabbi G.

Scrollers Preview- Parashat Sh'mot 2013

In his introduction to the book of Exodus, or “Sefer Sh’mot,” Nahum Sarna calls attention to the fact that this entire book covers the events of only 2 years. As David Hays often reminds us, the book does not tell us what the 400 years of life in Egypt were like for the Israelites. Instead, there is a sharp focus on God’s intervention in our history in a particular sequence of events.

This parasha begins with the initial acts of resistance to Pharaoh’s oppression, mostly carried out by women. How ironic that Pharaoh calls for the baby boys to be thrown into the Nile, when it is women – the midwives, Pharaoh’s daughter, and Moses’ mother and sister – who begin the process the leads to redemption from Egyptian slavery.

The parasha continues to follow the early life of Moses, culminating in the selection of Moses as God’s partner in carrying out God’s redemptive plan. Having just read the book of Genesis, the stories of our matriarchs and patriarchs still echoing in our memory, it is interesting to note the parallels and contrasts between Moses’ life and the lives of the earlier ancestors, especially Jacob.

Again we have a miraculous birth, but the miracle isn’t due to a barren woman finally giving birth. Moses is one of three siblings, but it isn’t sibling rivalry that causes Moses to flee his home. In fact, Aaron and Miriam aid Moses in important ways. Moses finds his wife at a well and spends many months living with his father-in-law, but this father-in-law is not a trickster, and he easily allows Moses to return to Egypt with his wife and son. We’ll investigate these similarities and differences together and see if we can uncover an underlying message.

I look forward to starting this powerful book with you this Shabbat!

Scrollers Preview: Parashat Vayechi

This week we complete our journey through the book of Genesis. Jacob is about to die, and he makes Joseph swear to bury him in the Cave of Machpelah in the land of Canaan. Jacob also blesses Joseph’s sons Ephraim and Menashe, and then proceeds to bless each of his own sons.

Jacob dies and is buried in the land of Canaan, brought there by an entourage of Egyptian dignitaries, along with his sons and their families. After Jacob’s death, Joseph’s brothers’ fear is revived that Joseph will now treat them badly in revenge. Joseph again reassures them that it was God who brought him down to Egypt, not them. We end the book of Genesis with Joseph’s death. He is placed in a coffin in Egypt. Egypt is the final word of the parasha.

The haftarah for this week also tells the story of a dying leader, King David, who gives blessings to his son Solomon and then dies and is buried.

In both of these texts we have the theme of one generation ending and passing a legacy on to the next generation. In the case of Jacob, the legacy is complex – he wants to pass on a spiritual legacy – a sense of God’s presence and protection to his grandchildren Ephraim and Menashe. And then in his blessings of the rest of the sons, we see more of a political legacy passed on to each tribe according to its strengths and weaknesses.

In the case of King David, there is some unfinished political business that he seems to want Solomon to complete for him, vis a vis his enemies. But at the same time, David also instructs his son to “Keep the charge of the Lord your God, walking in His ways and following his laws. . . .”

The story of Jacob ends with a sense anxiety – the children of Israel are in Egypt. And yet, there is hope for the future – Joseph makes his brothers swear to bring up his bones to the Land of Israel sometime in the future. The story of David too seems to end with anxiety. The text seems to go out of its way to declare that Solomon’s rule was “firmly established.”

It makes sense in a way that the first book of the Torah would end with themes of legacy and anxiety and unfinished business. Otherwise, why would we need four more books! The question, I suppose, is why does our sacred literature have these inconclusive endings? As we complete the book of Genesis, is there any sense of closure?

Scrollers Preview - Vayiggash

We have arrived at the emotional peak of the Joseph story this week, and probably one of the most emotional scenes in the Torah. Joseph, who has not yet revealed his identity to his brothers, listens to his brother Judah speak about the heartbreak it would cause their father Jacob if the brothers were to return home without Benjamin. And as Judah goes on to plead that Joseph take him as a slave in place of Benjamin, Joseph can no longer control his emotions. He breaks down in tears and says to his brothers “I am Joseph.”

Joseph continues, reassuring his brothers that “it was to save life that God sent me ahead of you. . . to save your lives in an extraordinary deliverance.”(Gen. 45:5-7) This is the meaning that Joseph has chosen to derive from his having been sold down to Egypt as a slave by his own brothers. There was a larger purpose – to save life.

It is not entirely clear if the “extraordinary deliverance” to which Joseph is referring is the short-term rescue of his family from the famine or the dramatic Exodus that is to come 400 years from now. Nevertheless, Joseph’s willingness to forgive his brothers and to find a greater purpose in his own suffering is striking.

Can we relate to Joseph’s reading of the meaning of his life? He sees God’s hand in all that has happened to him. Is this because he has dreamed it or because God has come to him with prophecies? Or does he sees God’s hand because this is the only way he can remain whole spiritually?

In contrast to Joseph, his father Jacob, when introducing himself to Pharaoh, says, “Few and hard have been the years of my life, nor do they come up to the life spans of my fathers during their sojourns.”(Gen 47:9) As he looks back at the ups and downs of his life, Jacob seems embittered, without clarity about the meaning of it all. Although he is now reunited with the son he once though dead, instead of rejoicing, he complains.

Is Joseph being pollyanish here, in seeing God’s redemptive hand in the difficulties of his life, or is this the choice one makes in order to feel at peace and whole and strong?

Scrollers Preview

Parashat Miketz

12/14/12

Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg

Last night I celebrated Chanukah with President Obama and First Lady Michelle Obama at the White House, among a couple hundred other national Jewish leaders. It was an awesome experience in so many ways, and I think it will take some time to articulate what it meant in any organized way. But I want to try, while it’s really fresh, to reflect on this experience in a way that connects to our Torah portion this week.

I woke up yesterday morning, got dressed in fancy holiday wear, flew to Washington, got a manicure (which only happens about once every 3 years for me), and showed up at the White House. There we were, a couple hundred Jews, many wearing yarmulkes, some wearing black fedoras, all eating Glatt Kosher food. The West Point Jewish chorus sang Hanukkah songs, and another military academy orchestra played Hanukkah and other Jewish music. And we surrounded by Christmas trees – gorgeous Christmas trees and greenery and wreaths and lights all over the White House. We gathered to light the menorah with the President and Michelle. A Jewish chaplain who celebrated Chanukah last year in Afghanistan, had the honor of lighting the menorah, a menorah rescued from a severely damaged Long Island synagogue after Hurricane Sandy. And our voices filled the East Wing with the Hebrew blessings.

What does it mean to be an American Jew? What does it mean to be invited by a Christian President to celebrate Chanukah in a White House adorned for Christmas? What does it mean to have power and influence in our nation’s capital, as Jews? What is my unique message for my President, when I have his attention, when I’m grasping his hand for less than 1 minute?

This week Joseph, the Hebrew, is taken from his cell in an Egyptian dungeon. he is dressed and bathed, his hair is cut and he appears before one of the most powerful men on earth, to interpret a dream and to deliver a message. Joseph’s influence is so potent that Pharaoh makes him his right-hand man. Joseph gets an Egyptian name, and Egyptian wife, and he names his children “God has made me fertile in the land of my affliction” and “God has made me forget my father’s house.”

So, what does it mean to show up at the White House as Jew, with a Jewish name, to celebrate a Jewish holiday, and to deliver a Jewish message? What does it mean to have my power and influence in this country celebrated and validated, and to have my religious culture celebrated in the President’s house? I left with my heart bursting. I am so proud. I am so, so grateful to be an American Jew. And I was very aware that we have a heavy responsibility. Our influence is louder and more powerful than our numbers. We are no longer “court Jews” who have to make nice, or who, like Joseph, have to assimilate and take on a non-Jewish identity in order to gain entrance to the seat of power.

I asked the President to not only stand strong with and for Israel, but to stand strong for peace. I told him, in my less than 1 minute, when he was holding my hand and looking me in the eye – that thousands of American rabbis want peace. I hope he got the message. And I hope I fulfilled my responsibility.

Scrollers Preview: Parashat Vayeitze

The parasha opens this week with Jacob on the road at night, fleeing from his brother, headed towards his uncle Lavan. He lays down to sleep and has a vision of angels going up and down a staircase. When he awakes, what stays with him is an awareness that God is with him. During the dream, God announces to him: “Remember, I am with you.” And after the dream Jacob vows that “If God remains with me. . . then the Lord shall be my God.”

After twenty years of serving his uncle Lavan in order to marry his two daughters, Rachel and Leah, twenty years in which Jacob was mistreated and deceived by his uncle, Jacob is still aware that God is with him. As Jacob secretly plans with his wives to leave Lavan’s camp, Jacob mentions God’s presence in his life twice. And so, the phrase “God is with him” appears four times in this parasha.

The word “to steal” also appears four times in this parasha. As they are leaving Lavan’s house, Rachel steals his household idols, and Jacob’s stealthy departure is described as “stealing Lavan’s heart.”

God is with Jacob, a sign of connection and wholeness and safety. And yet, there is deep conflict, deception, and stealing, which all create a sense of disconnection, fragmentation and danger. So – what is Jacobs’ experience of these twenty years? What does it mean to him that God is and has been with him this whole time? Do we sometimes have to separate from another person, or another people – in order to truly experience safety and connection in our lives as a whole? Is it possible to feel that God is with us in the midst of conflict, deception and darkness?

Scrollers Preview - Parashat Toldot

Now that Isaac has married Rebekah, his story truly begins, according to the opening lines of our Parasha, “This is the story of Isaac.” As we read Isaac’s story, there is a sense of déjà vu.

Rebekah is barren, like Sarah. Like in Abraham and Sarah’s story, there is a famine in the land, and Isaac passes his wife off as his sister, fearing that the inhabitants of the area will kill him because Rebekah is so beautiful.

And then, Isaac redigs wells that his father Abraham had dug a generation before – wells which the Philistines had stopped up. Isaac gives those wells the same names his father had given them.

Isaac has two sons, like his parents. And one son, Jacob, is sent away to the “homeland” to find a wife for himself, paralleling Abraham’s servant’s journey to the same place to find a wife for Isaac in the previous generation.

After Abraham almost sacrifices Isaac on the mountain, the Torah doesn’t show them together again until Isaac and Ishmael come together to bury their father. We may imagine that Isaac and Abraham never saw each other again alive. And yet, Isaac’s life is tracing the lines of his father’s life. He is redigging the wells that his father had previously dug, literally and figuratively.

As we study together, let us look for the parallels and look for the places where Abraham and Isaac’s lives differ. Why these variations on the same themes from the prior generation? Is this the Torah’s way of showing us God’s hand in events? And why these themes – barrenness, sibling conflict, exile? What is the message behind them about how the covenant is passed down from one generation to the next?